Brothers and Cousins (OLD)
by DonaldDouglasandToby6
Summary: Spencer gets jealous when the Flying Scotsman gets more attention than he does.


One day, Gordon was backing down onto Platform 1 at Knapford Station to be coupled to his express coaches as usual. He wasn't expecting anything too out of the ordinary as Stafford shunted a few vans into Platform 3. The electric shunter couldn't help but chuckle at Gordon's lethargy.

"What's the matter, Gordon?"

"Feeling bored is all," the big engine explained as he waited for the passengers to climb aboard.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Some of my passengers take forever to get onboard," Gordon said dully, "The wait for the guard's whistle can be rather tedious when you have no-one to talk to..."

"Well, that won't last too much longer with _me_ around!"

Gordon's frustration left him instantly as his jaw dropped.

"Who's that?" Stafford asked, having never heard that voice before.

"It's my brother..." Gordon responded softly.

Before Stafford could reply, the Flying Scotsman himself pulled into Platform 2 and smirked at Gordon.

"The one and only!" he grinned.

"Don't remind me..." Gordon muttered.

Stafford looked from one engine to another and caught on what was going on.

"I'll leave you two alone then," the shunter said quietly as he slowly reversed back to the yard.

Gordon rose an eyebrow as he glanced at his last remaining brother.

"Why are you here exactly? Have you come to take my Express?" he said jokingly.

"Oh, what nonsense! That would imply your Express is worth stealing!"

"Alright, alright, you've had your quips. But what _is_ the reason you're on Sodor?"

"I've come with some railway enthusiasts of course!"

"I see. They're here to only take pictures of _you_ , I presume?" Gordon asked, rolling his eyes enviously.

Flying Scotsman smirked.

"I wouldn't mind if they did, but I do think that'd be a bit selfish, now wouldn't it?"

"Yes. Yes, it would."

"In that case, you're in for a surprise."

"Huh?"

A railway enthusiast climbed out of a coach and ran up to Flying Scotsman with his camera.

"Oh, hello there, young man," the famous engine said kindly, "Right here next to me is my last remaining brother, Gordon."

The railway enthusiast grinned and aimed the camera so both engines would be in the photo. He took the picture and ran to the other enthusiasts that were still disembarking.

"Come over here, everyone! Flying Scotsman's remaining brother is here!"

Gordon was shocked to see all the enthusiasts run out of the coaches and aim all their cameras at them at once.

"Goodness me! I don't know which direction to look!" he exclaimed as flashes blinded him for a moment.

Flying Scotsman laughed.

"Don't say I never do anything for you."

Gordon grinned as the cameras started taking pictures.

"Thank you, brother," he said sincerely.

"Anytime, _little_ brother."

"I thought we agreed to never speak of that again..."

"I make no promises...!"

Just then, Spencer puffed up with the Duke and Duchess, who were to have tea with the Fat Controller's family. He whistled loudly as he came to a halt.

"Hello, Sodor! It is I, Spencer!"

Nobody in the station replied; the enthusiasts were enthralled in their pictures of Gordon and Flying Scotsman, and the two engines themselves were too busy soaking in the praise to notice Spencer.

"Reminds you of old times, eh brother?" Flying Scotsman asked.

"Oh, indeed it does," Gordon murmured, reminiscing of his older days, "I remember when you visited for the first time."

"I do, too," his brother replied, "Oh, I'll never forget the look on your face!"

Spencer was shocked.

"What is this? Are they all ignoring me...? Why are they all ignoring me?! I'm very important!"

The Duke rolled his eyes as he helped the Duchess off of the coach. He walked along the platform until he was by his engine.

"Spencer, I'm just going to be honest with you: You aren't as famous as the Flying Scotsman, so, therefore, you're bound to get less attention than him."

Spencer was appalled.

"Sir! Why would you say such a thing?!"

"Simply because it is the truth, Spencer."

"Outrageous! That's not true at all! Is it?!"

The Duke sighed as he walked over to his wife.

"What was all that about?" asked the Duchess curiously, having been too focused on the presence of Flying Scotsman to hear the conversation.

"Oh, nothing important..." the Duke muttered, "Only Spencer acting selfishly."

"Wouldn't be the first time...!" she sighed as they headed towards the Fat Controller's office,

As the Duke and Duchess walked away, Spencer only mulled over what the Duke had said. The more he did this, the more furious he became.

"Huh! No Flying Scotsman, eh? What rubbish! I'm just as amazing as the Flying Scotsman, if not more so!"

"That's where you're wrong, Spencer."

Spencer looked over to find Whiff puffing in with some rubbish trucks.

He grimaced as the little engine giggled to himself.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped.

"Well, for starters, Flying Scotsman has two tenders. Not to mention he's had all sorts of achievements throughout his career, such as taking his own designated service from London to Edinburgh for eight hours nonstop, featuring in his own motion picture in 1929, and became the symbol of the London Northern Eastern Railway," he said matter-of-factly, "All you've ever done is be a private engine. It's your brother Mallard who's really famous."

Spencer scowled.

"Huh! Well, if it takes being as amazing as the Flying Scotsman to get noticed around here, then I'll do it!"

Spencer whistled and began to puff away.

"Hey, wait!" Whiff cried, "I can tell you more about him!"

"I don't care!" Spencer called back as he left.

Whiff sighed sadly.

"No-one appreciates knowledge around here..."

* * *

Spencer quickly puffed to the yard to drop off the Duke and Duchess' private coach. Bill and Ben were also in the yard, leaving some china clay to be distributed elsewhere on the island.

"It's not fair!" Spencer complained loudly, "I should have my picture taken too! Why do Gordon and the Flying Scotsman get special treatment? I am their cousin after all!"

Ben grunted as he glanced at his twin.

"That Spencer's so loud! I can barely hear my own thoughts!"

"You have thoughts?" Bill gasped in mock seriousness.

"Yes, and right now they're about you..."

"I'm so flattered!"

"...having your mouth taped shut."

"Oh."

Bill glanced from Ben to Spencer, who was still ranting to nobody in particular.

"I suppose he is being quite loud, isn't he? Hmm..."

Bill's frown turned into a devious grin. Ben saw the twinkle in his twin's eye and smirked.

"Do you have a plan, Bill?"

"Ohoho, I do indeed. He wants to be like the Flying Scotsman? Well, he will be..."

Spencer was _still_ sulking as his coach was uncoupled. Two cheeky whistles startled him and made him jump in fright. He scowled as he noticed two tank engine twins scuttling up alongside him.

"Oh, I say! Not dignified at all, and quite rude too! You simply cannot startle a streamlined engine like me like that!"

Bill winked at Ben, who giggled cheekily.

"Oh, look at this, Ben! A giant bathtub on wheels! No wonder he didn't get any attention!"

Emily, who was passing through the yard with her coaches, giggled at the remark. Spencer's face turned red with both rage and embarrassment. He was about to retort when Ben spoke up.

"We know how much you crave attention, speedy wheels. I think we have a way for you to get it."

Spencer lowered his brow, a bit suspicious.

"What way...?"

"Well, we all know the Flying Scotsman has two tenders, doesn't he Bill?"

"Of course he does, Ben. Maybe we can find a second tender for you, Spencer! Then you'll be just as amazing as him!"

Spencer couldn't help but find the offer tempting.

"I... suppose you could," he stuttered, "No tricks, though. I don't to look like a fool."

Bill and Ben snickered to each other.

"Oh, no tricks indeed, Spencer! Come on Bill, let's find a tender!"

The twins rushed away, as Spencer continued to dwell in his own self-pity.

* * *

"How are we going to find a tender, Ben...?" Bill asked quietly when they were out of earshot.

Ben's jaw dropped.

"I thought you'd know how to make this plan work, Bill! It was your idea, to begin with!"

"I know, but... uh..."

"This is so typical of you. Make up a genius idea but can't even follow through with it!"

"Hey, I-"

Bill stopped his planned comeback when he noticed BoCo pulling a queer-looking tender through the yard. He grinned as he puffed up to him.

"BoCo! Hey, BoCo!"

The big, green diesel glanced back to find Bill panting alongside him. He raised an eyebrow as he came to a halt.

"Yes, Bill...?"

"BoCo, where is that tender going?" Bill asked innocently, taking a meaningful look at it.

BoCo chuckled.

"Oh, this old thing? The Wellsworth stationmaster found it in a field and demanded it to be scrapped, so I'm taking it to the scrapyard."

"Is it functional?" said Bill quickly.

"I'm pretty sure it is. I don't really have a say in the matter, though. Not that I care too much; this piece of rust is practically useless now."

"Can _I_ take it to the scrapyard?"

BoCo glanced down at Bill and lowered his brow.

"What do _you_ want to do with it?"

"Take it to the scrapyard, of course. I only want to be useful."

However, the diesel still looked unsure.

"Come now," Bill urged, with a conniving smile, "Don't you have enough work to do as it is?"

BoCo sighed.

"Don't get me started on it. This morning I had to take a load of China Clay to the Docks. Then, I had to take some fuel to the Dieselworks. I have to do this job, and afterward, I have to pull a local passenger train-"

He stopped midway through his ramble and looked down at Bill.

"Oh... alright... You can take it to the scrapyard for me..."

"Hooray!"

"But I don't want you to do anything else with it."

"Oh, I won't. As you said, it's useless now."

Bill smirked as BoCo was uncoupled from the tender. He then rolled away to fetch some coaches. The diesel sighed to himself as he took one last look at Bill.

"I have the feeling my decision wasn't the best one... But I deserve a rest."

"What was that about me not being a genius?" Bill giggled as Ben steamed alongside.

Ben rolled his eyes.

"Right, you did one step of the plan correctly. We still have to paint this heap of scrap to look like Spencer's tender. Driver?"

Ben's driver looked up, clearly not paying attention to anything Bill and Ben had said.

"Yes?"

"Can you paint this tender? It's, uh... very important."

Ben's driver jumped down from the cab.

"How so?"

Ben began to stutter, trying to find a legitimate excuse that he would buy.

"Well, uh... It's... for a..."

"It's for a trick!" Bill interrupted quickly.

Ben gasped in horror.

"Bill!"

Ben's driver grinned.

"Ah, I see. Sure, I'll help."

"...so... you don't mind it's for a trick?" Ben asked in confusion.

"Not really. That Spencer does need to be knocked down a peg. Besides, I always wanted to be an artist."

He ran to the yard manager, as Bill and Ben exchanged a grin. The driver quickly got some silver paint and brushes.

"This should do it," he said as he started to paint the tender.

An hour passed, and the tender had been crudely painted. Ben's driver smiled as he examined his handiwork. He looked over his shoulder at the worried twins.

"And? What do you think?"

Ben cringed as he studied the tender. It took him a few moments to say anything remotely about positive about it.

"Well... it's... silver."

"Indeed," said Bill uneasily, "It's... very pretty."

"Do you think I could paint a painting? I certainly think so."

Bill and Ben exchanged a wince. Ben attempted a sentence.

"Uh..."

"Come on," interrupted Bill, trying to get things moving, "We must get this to Spencer."

"Are you sure he'll buy it?" Ben asked worriedly as his driver climbed aboard his cab.

"We'll have to see," replied his twin grimly.

Bill and Ben whistled and quickly chuffed to the other side of the yard.

* * *

Poor Harvey had been listening to Spencer's rambling for a while now.

"It is completely undignified!" Spencer finished, "I deserve better!"

Harvey was about to reply, when Bill and Ben puffed alongside him, with the tender between them.

"Here's your tender!" Ben grinned as the twins came to a halt.

Harvey rose an eyebrow.

"Why does Spencer need a tender? Doesn't he already have one?"

"He wants to be like the Flying Scotsman," whispered Bill to the crane engine, "So he wants two tenders. We decided to give him another one."

Harvey sighed, sensing some sort of scheme, judging by the way Bill and Ben were smiling.

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea..."

Bill and Ben ignored him and looked at Spencer, anticipating some sort of negative reply. However, to their surprise, Spencer beamed happily.

"I love it!" he exclaimed, "It looks beautiful!"

Bill and Ben looked at each other in confusion.

"It does?" Bill deadpanned.

"Of course it does. It compliments my glossy paintwork perfectly! I also love how it looks similar, but also different to my current tender. Very artistic. I can't wait to show those two this! Ha ha!"

In Ben's cab, his driver grinned proudly. Harvey gave Spencer a weird look, but he pretended not to notice. Ben quickly shunted Spencer's new tender into place, and Spencer grinned as he puffed away.

"Soon they'll see that I am just like the Flying Scotsman! Thank you, you two!"

Bill and Ben snickered to each other as Spencer left the yard. Harvey rolled his eyes.

"Something's going to go wrong, I just know it..." he muttered as he reversed away from the twins.

* * *

Later, at the station, Gordon and Flying Scotsman were talking when Spencer puffed alongside them. Flying Scotsman cast a smile at the silver engine.

"Oh. Hello Spencer," he said cheerfully.

Spencer scoffed.

"You may think you're famous and unique, Mr. Show-off, but not anymore!"

Flying Scotsman was rather confused. Gordon lowered his eyelids, unimpressed.

"What do you mean, Spencer?" the green engine questioned.

Spencer sneered.

"Well, look at my two tenders!"

Flying Scotsman and Gordon glanced at each other, each raising an eyebrow.

"That's right," Spencer said proudly, "I have two tenders now, just like you! Time for my picture to be taken!"

Gordon snickered as he looked at Spencer's "second tender".

"What's so funny?" snapped Spencer.

Then Flying Scotsman began to snicker too, much to Spencer's surprise.

"S-Spencer," Gordon said, trying not to laugh, "D-do you honestly think your t-tender looks real?"

"What? Of course, it's a real tender!"

At this, Gordon burst into laughter. Flying Scotsman attempted to clear his throat and be civil.

"Spencer, pardon my condescending tone, but how could you possibly think that's a real tender? You can clearly see the rust and scrap underneath it! Someone just painted it in an attempt for it to look nice!"

"What?!"

Spencer looked back in horror at his second tender, hoping that the two were only joking. However, to his dismay, he found that Flying Scotsman was right. Taking a closer look at the tender, it _was_ obvious that it had been painted very quickly, and with not the most skill.

"I knew you wanted attention, Spencer," guffawed Gordon, "But this is desperate!"

Spencer blushed a bright red and scowled furiously.

"Those blasted twins! They _did_ trick me!"

Suddenly, two sets of laughter reached Spencer's ears. He looked over in anger to find Bill and Ben rushing through the station.

"It appears you don't need any help looking like a fool!" Bill giggled.

"Good luck being famous!" Ben chortled.

Spencer was about to give a comeback, but he was interrupted by the roars of laughter by both Gordon and Flying Scotsman. The private engine groaned in shame as other engines arrived. As soon as soon as they saw the "tender", they laughed at him too.

"I don't think _that's_ worthy of a picture, Spencer!" sneered Stanley.

"I think you're now lower class rather than top class, Spencer," chuckled Percy.

"Maybe you need glasses. You clearly can't see what's right in front of you," cracked Charlie.

"Even I wouldn't settle for something as awful as that!" snorted Scruff.

Spencer growled and tried to cover himself in steam, but it was no good; the engines were all laughing at him, barring Flying Scotsman, who had ceased once the other engines arrived.

"Stop laughing at me! It was only a mistake!"

"A very dumb mistake," smirked Charlie.

Spencer blew his whistle loudly and stormed out of the station, in an attempt to leave the teasing behind. The tank engines giggled cheekily as they returned to work. Gordon rolled his eyes as he glanced at his brother.

"Fancy that, eh brother? An LNER engine having such indignity! Such a shame, really... He _must_ be embarrassed..."

Flying Scotsman frowned with concern as he looked ahead. He squinted as Spencer left his vision.

"Indeed..."

Just then, two horns threw him out of his thoughts.

"Huh?"

He looked back in surprise to find 'Arry and Bert pulling a train of goods behind him. 'Arry was in front, and Bert was the back engine. 'Arry scowled as he came to a halt.

"Look at this, Bert! A steamer blocking our way! Typical..."

Gordon was furious.

"You do not speak to the Flying Scotsman like that!"

"As if we care what fancy name 'e 'as, mate. We just want to deliver our goods," Bert said crossly.

"Right, and this oaf's in the way," 'Arry fumed.

"I'm terribly sorry, you two," Flying Scotsman said apologetically, "Perhaps I'll just head to the yard until I am needed."

"You do that," 'Arry mumbled.

"But do it quickly," Bert fumed, "We don't want Top Hatt complaining 'ow we're causing chaos and destruction."

"Isn't it confusion and delay?"

"I prefer what I said. "

Flying Scotsman whistled and puffed out of the station, and 'Arry and Bert filled his place. Gordon glared at the two diesels severely as he puffed away.

* * *

Soon, Flying Scotsman had shunted himself onto a siding.

He watched the other engines pass by with their trains and sighed to himself. Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming towards him.

"Ah, Flying Scotsman!"

The engine in question looked over to find the Fat Controller stumbling over a rock.

"Are you alright, sir?" he asked, wincing a little.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm fine. Heh heh..."

The stout gentleman cleared his throat, trying to appear more professional.

"Now, I have an important job for you to do."

"Yes, sir?"

"I want you to take a railtour from here at Knapford to Vicarstown Station. Lots of enthusiasts will be there to see you, so do be careful."

Flying Scotsman grinned, glad to be doing something again.

"Thank you, sir. It'll be good to stretch my wheels again. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," the Fat Controller smiled, "Philip will bring your coaches to the platform, and then you can begin your run."

"Alright, sir," Flying Scotsman said quickly and he chuffed to the station.

The Fat Controller glanced at his schedule and walked back to his office, stumbling over the rock again.

"Ow..." he groaned, clutching his right foot.

* * *

Meanwhile, Philip was excitedly bringing the special coaches to the platform.

"I'm delivering coaches for a famous engine like the Flying Scotsman! Oh, this is so exciting! I wonder if this is a step to having my own branch line! Maybe my own railway!" he chattered hastily.

Flying Scotsman whistled and smirked as he backed down onto the rolling stock.

"I think it'll take more than being a station pilot to have your own railway, little fellow."

"Oh. That's a shame. I think I'd be a good controller. Well, good luck, famous engine! Hope you have a safe journey!"

The big engine chuckled as the passengers excitedly climbed aboard the train.

"Thank you for the concern, but I'm sure I'll be fine."

The LNER A3 blew his loud whistle and steamed out of the station.

"Are you sure?" Philip asked loudly, "I mean, uh, I've been told that some of those bends are a bit dangerous if you go too fast!"

However, Flying Scotsman was already too far away to hear the boxcab properly. Philip put on a straight face.

"He'll be fine."

* * *

Flying Scotsman glided along the line, feeling quite proud of himself.

"I'll make sure these passengers have a ride they won't ever forget," he smirked and he surged forward, tugging the packed coaches behind him

At Crosby Station, Spencer was filling up with water when the Flying Scotsman raced past with his railtour.

He glanced at Spencer for a split second.

"Can't stop to chat! Railtour coming through!" he cried as he raced through the station.

A businessman's hat blew away in the wind and he ran to catch it.

Spencer scowled as Flying Scotsman disappeared.

"Running through a station like that?! Preposterous! I'm sure he's just showing off that I'm not him, with all his speed and extra tenders..."

* * *

For a while, Flying Scotsman's trip was rather uneventful. The passengers enjoyed the ride, Flying Scotsman was in top condition, and the other engines gave a friendly greeting as they passed.

However, things were about to take a turn for the worse. Flying Scotsman puffed through Wellsworth Station and whistled briefly to Edward, who was tidying up the yard. He looked up at Gordon's Hill and chuckled dryly as he began to climb the gradient.

"I remember when I was told this hill was named after Gordon, and why... Oh, old times..."

The green tender engine started speeding down the other slope, suddenly realizing how fast he was going. He gasped as he noticed the bend at the bottom of the hill.

"Oh no!"

He shut his eyes tightly as he felt one of his bogies derail.

"Brakes, driver! **Brakes**!"

"I'm trying!" cried the driver, and he put some sand on the rails so his engine could grip better.

Everyone tensed as they all thought the entire train was about to derail. Luckily, no such event occurred, and Flying Scotsman ground to a halt. He opened his eyes and felt that some of his wheels weren't aligned with the rails.

"Goodness me, that was a ride! What happened?" he asked nervously.

The driver looked back through one of the windows and gasped.

"Well, I'll be! You went so fast down this hill that one of your second tender's bogies derailed on the bend! We can't continue the journey, I'm afraid. It'll take too long to re-rail us and still be on time."

Flying Scotsman sighed in dismay.

"Oh, dear... We were going so nicely too! Such a shame that was ruined..."

The driver patted his cab consolingly.

"I'm sorry, ol' boy. I know you were excited."

"It's not your fault. To be honest, it's probably mine," replied Flying Scotsman gravely.

"Well, since we're stuck here, I may as well get help from a nearby station."

The driver walked to a telephone booth and started dialing.

* * *

Meanwhile, at Crosby Yard, Spencer was on a siding, since he had nowhere else to be. He was _stil_ _l_ complaining about the day's events, which greatly annoyed Bear, who was arranging some trucks for his next goods train. The Hymek diesel stopped his shunting to finally tell him what he thought.

"Oh, would you please just let it go, Spencer?" Bear grumbled, "It's hard to imagine someone that has an ego the size of yours feeling insecure about himself."

"I'm not insecure!" Spencer retorted, "I'm just... uh..."

"Envious?" Bear offered.

"I'm not that either! I am simply asking the question of why he gets all this attention, and why Gordon gets to go along for the ride! I'm just left in the dust!"

"Someone's bitter," Bear chuckled.

"I'm not bitter, I'm just-"

"Spencer, I really do you think you should address your problem."

"It's not _my_ problem!"

"In all honesty, it-"

However, Bear couldn't finish, as the stationmaster ran up to the private engine.

"Spencer, one of Flying Scotsman's second tender's bogies has derailed near Gordon's Hill. You're the best choice to fetch the coaches and take them back here since you're relatively close."

Spencer rolled his eyes, not very excited about seeing Flying Scotsman again.

"If I must, sir..." he muttered.

"Well, yes, you must. It's an important railtour that he was pulling."

Spencer scoffed as he puffed away.

"Important railtour... Why couldn't I pull it? Am I not important enough for them?" he said, rather loudly.

Bear just sighed.

* * *

Spencer puffed over Gordon's Hill and arrived at the scene of the derailment. As he came to a halt, he couldn't help but sneer.

"Well, well, well. I suppose you got into a bit of an accident, eh Scotsman?"

"I suppose I did..." Flying Scotsman chuckled gravely. "Are you here to collect the coaches?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Spencer grunted, "We couldn't have your passengers stranded, could we...?"

"Indeed. Thank you."

Spencer rose an eyebrow.

"For what...?"

"For collecting the coaches. I couldn't let the passengers just sit here while that Harvey fellow comes to rescue me."

"Oh... I see."

Spencer's driver uncoupled Flying Scotsman from the train, and Spencer began to back away towards Wellsworth.

"Good luck!" the famous engine called.

Spencer looked back and groaned as he started to climb the hill.

"Oh, why must I pull these blasted coaches up this steep slope?" he complained, "I'll never be able to do it..."

"You will do it," his driver said as he put some sand on the rails, "Come on, we're nearly at the top."

Spencer's cheeks started to redden as his wheels gripped the rails.

"Nearly there... Nearly there..." he panted.

Flying Scotsman grinned as he glanced back at the slightly struggling Spencer.

"You're doing well! Keep going!" he yelled.

"I... will..." Spencer grunted as he reached the top.

Flying Scotsman whistled with delight from the bottom.

"Good job, chap! You did it!"

Spencer's frown turned into a soft smile.

"I did indeed..."

* * *

At last, the silver engine backed into Wellsworth Station. He panted a little as he came to a halt. The stationmaster was waiting for him on the platform.

"Ah, good job Spencer."

"Thank you, sir," Spencer panted, "but, if I may ask, who will pull Flying Scotsman's railtour? Surely, the train can't be canceled."

The stationmaster thought for a moment.

"Indeed it can't. I'll see what the Fat Controller says."

He ran into his office inside the station building and dialed the Fat Controller's number.

"Sir, I'm afraid there's bad news."

The Fat Controller groaned as he put on his top hat, ready to leave his office and potentially scold an engine for wrongdoing.

"What sort of bad news...?"

"I'm afraid Flying Scotsman has derailed, sir," the stationmaster explained, "Not severely, I've been told, but still enough that he can't pull the train to time."

The Fat Controller rubbed his forehead.

"Oh dear... This had to happen _now_ of all times, didn't it..."

"What do you suggest, sir?"

The Fat Controller thought for a moment.

"Hmm... I believe Spencer has nothing to do, so I'll send him to take the railtour up to Vicarstown."

"Alright, sir. I'll tell him."

"Thank you..."

The stationmaster hung up and walked back to Spencer.

"According to the Fat Controller, the engine will be you."

Spencer's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Me sir?! Are you sure...?"

"That's what he said," the stationmaster said, "You better run around to the front of the train, while I warn the signalman of Flying Scotsman blocking the track."

"If you say so," replied Spencer.

* * *

It wasn't very long before Spencer had run around the coaches and pulled them out of the station. He steamed over Gordon's Hill and approached Flying Scotsman again. Flying Scotsman winked at him as Spencer passed. The silver engine smirked and reached his top speed as he raced away.

* * *

The railtour was a great success; Spencer quickly made up for lost time, and the passengers liked how fast he was. When Spencer pulled up into Vicarstown Station, all the passengers cheered for him.

"A very nice ride."

"Indeed! Such high speeds! It was such a thrill!"

Spencer grinned for the first time in a while.

"Oh, thank you all! You're very kind!"

* * *

A half hour later, Flying Scotsman perked up as he heard a whistle and some panting.

"Oh. I do hope that's 'Harvey', whoever he is."

Harvey puffed alongside Flying Scotsman, his cheeks a light tint of red.

"I'm terribly sorry I'm late, Mister Flying Scotsman," he said quickly, "But I had to help load some goods at the yard. I want to express how much of an honor it is to meet you."

"Don't worry about it. Also, please just call me 'Flying Scotsman'. I don't like having a title like that. Makes me feel above everyone else, which I don't really like."

Harvey smiled sheepishly.

"S-sorry, Flying Scotsman. I'll get to rerailing your tender now if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind. I want to ride along the rails again, you know."

Harvey's chains were wrapped around his second tender, and the crane engine began to put it back on the rails.

"Say, Harvey," Flying Scotsman said as he worked, "Do you have any idea why Spencer is acting the way he is?"

Harvey remembered when he saw Bill and Ben giving Spencer the fake tender, and when he was being mocked by the other engines.

"Well, he did seem to want to be like you, judging by his... *ahem* petty attempt to look more like you."

"I know that, but... You don't think he was envious of me, do you?"

"That's what it seems like," Harvey replied, "I think he feels rather inferior, and he's not used to that feeling."

"That's true. What we need is a way for him to realize we're both equal. At least I like to think we are."

"Hmm... Well, he did mention wanting to get his picture taken," Harvey recalled.

Flying Scotsman grinned.

"I got it!"

"You do?"

"Yes! Get a photographer, then meet me at Vicarstown Sheds tonight."

"Alright, if you say so," said Harvey, just as the second tender's wheels met the steel rails again. "You're free to move now, Flying Scotsman."

"Thank you, Harvey!"

The big engine whistled and he raced away. Harvey smiled and reversed to fulfill his mission.

* * *

That night, Spencer was getting a drink at Vicarstown Station when the stationmaster walked up to Spencer's driver.

"Driver? Would you mind talking for a second?"

"Sure," the driver replied as he hopped down from the cab.

He glanced over his shoulder and looked at the fireman, who was filling Spencer's tanks with water.

"You keep things in check while I go, alright?"

"Mhmm," the fireman mumbled, not looking up.

"Right," the stationmaster said, "So..."

The stationmaster's voice dropped to a whisper, and Spencer couldn't hear it.

He suddenly got curious, especially when the driver grinned.

"Right. Sounds good."

He hopped back into Spencer's cab and whispered to the fireman, who nodded. Spencer lowered his brow, getting rather suspicious.

"What are you talking about?"

The driver winked as the fireman took the water pipe out of the tank.

"Well, the stationmaster said we have to go Vicarstown Sheds."

"Huh... Alright," Spencer said quietly as he began to puff away.

* * *

Spencer slowly trudged up to Vicarstown Sheds. He rose an eyebrow as he looked to find both Gordon and Flying Scotsman resting in two of the berths. Flying Scotsman smiled kindly as Spencer slowly steamed onto the turntable.

"Ah, good to see you could make it."

"Make it? Make what? What's going on?" Spencer demanded as he looked at the two brothers.

Gordon smirked.

"Well, Spencer, it's become a bit clear that for some reason you've wanted to be more like my brother. Would you care to explain that?"

Spencer blushed and sighed as he backed into a berth.

"...alright, I was envious that you got more attention than I did, Flying Scotsman. I got angry and wanted to be like you, only to be made a fool of by Bill and Ben..."

Flying Scotsman frowned.

"Oh. That explains that."

"I suppose it does," murmured Gordon, "But why did you want your picture taken?"

"I saw a photographer taking photographs of you and your brother together... I felt left out, especially since I'm related to both of you too, albeit not as closely." He eyed the two tendered engine apologetically. "I'm sorry, Flying Scotsman. I did act rather foolish, the more I think about it. It wasn't a very dignified thing to do."

"I accept your apology," Flying Scotsman said sincerely, "Especially after how well you handled my railtour. Splendid, I must say. Almost as good as me. Almost...!"

Spencer then remembered the oddity of his driver telling him to head to the sheds.

"Say, why am I here anyway? My driver told me we had to head here for some reason. I asked you earlier and you avoided my question."

Gordon and Flying Scotsman grinned at each other and winked. Spencer raised an eyebrow.

"Well...?"

Flying Scotsman looked beside the shed.

"Harvey, come on out!"

"Oh, a-alright," said a Scottish accent.

Spencer's jaw dropped as Harvey puffed out of the shadows.

"So you've basically been beside the shed this whole time?"

Harvey chuckled awkwardly.

"Err... pretty much, yes."

A photographer hopped down from the crane engine's cab and smiled.

"You also got a photographer, Harvey?" Spencer gawked.

"I got him from Knapford," the crane engine explained quickly, "Technically it was more Flying Scotsman's idea. Gordon helped too."

Spencer stared in amazement at the other two engines in the shed.

"You two arranged this...? For me...?"

"Of course. You did say you wanted your picture taken," Gordon smirked.

"But... why?! After all of my rudeness!"

"We can't leave a fellow LNER Pacific all alone," Flying Scotsman grinned, and he glanced at the photographer. "You know what to do."

The photographer nodded and walked to where he was in front of the sheds. Spencer beamed at his two family members.

"Thank you."

"It's what family is for," Flying Scotsman said, and Gordon murmured in agreement.

Spencer then looked at Harvey.

"And thank you too, Harvey."

Harvey smiled.

"No problem, Spencer."

The photographer aimed his camera so all three LNER engines would be in the shot.

"Alright, everybody smile!"

The engines did so and the camera flashed.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Strange how I've been doing so many Gordon-related stories, isn't it...? This was a fun one to write, especially because of Bill, Ben and Spencer. I've been wanting to write Flying Scotsman for a while now and so I decided to do this concept that I've had in my head for a long time. I made his personality mostly the television series one but still has some maturity, and not nearly as pompous. Writing Harvey more into the plot was more of a last-minute decision, but I'm glad I did it - it means he'll have more of a point. I hope you like it and don't forget to favorite (if you do like it :P) and review!


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